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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29902368">We'll Call It Serendipity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/94BottlesOfSnapple/pseuds/94BottlesOfSnapple'>94BottlesOfSnapple</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bad Things Happen Bingo [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Daredevil (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Demons, Body Paint, Demon Matt Murdock, Demon Summoning, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Bondage, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Touch-Starved</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:47:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,265</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29902368</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/94BottlesOfSnapple/pseuds/94BottlesOfSnapple</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Foggy knows what’s happened the second he smells the reek of sulfur leaking in from under his office door. Again."</p><p>After yet another accidental demon summoning at the Interplanar Law Offices of Landman and Zack goes horribly awry, Foggy finds himself getting hitched to a demon he just met to keep the poor guy out of infernal prison. It's not as sketchy as it sounds. Probably.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Franklin "Foggy" Nelson &amp; Marci Stahl, Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bad Things Happen Bingo [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2148057</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>140</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Bad Things Happen Bingo</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>We'll Call It Serendipity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the Bad Things Happen Bingo square "Touch Starved", the Marvel Fluff Bingo square "Wing Fic", and the <a href="https://pomegranate-belle.tumblr.com/post/188278623955/ridiculous-sentence-prompts">Ridiculous Sentence Prompt</a> “That is the tenth demon summoning this week holy shit.”</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Foggy knows what’s happened the second he smells the reek of sulfur leaking in from under his office door. <em>Again</em>.</p><p>For the first five seconds, he tries to take deep breaths and ignore it. Not his circus, not his monkeys. Nope, nope, nope. And then there’s a shriek.</p><p>Groaning, Foggy drags his hands down his face. Then he stands, slams open his office door, and stomps down the hall.</p><p>“That is the <em>tenth</em> demon summoning this <em>week</em>, holy shit,” he grumbles to himself. “Can these people not differentiate between sigils?!”</p><p>It’s days like these that Foggy really wishes he hadn’t specialized in interplanar law. He could have gone corporate. Family law. Anything else. Literally anything else would have been a smarter choice than this — spending five days a week fixing the screwups of silver-spoon nepotism hires that wanted all the power that came with the title of Summoner without putting in an ounce of real work. Whatever they’ve summoned is, once again, infernal — despite the fact that Foggy is in the firm’s Elemental division, helping negotiate zoning contracts with beings that have jurisdiction over land, water, and air.</p><p>He rams his way through the door to the summoning room, not sure what to expect — a snarling Archdemon, a cowering Summoner? — but it’s not what he finds.</p><p>Inside the room is Danny Rand, white-faced with panic. There is a demon in the circle, without a doubt, but they’re collapsed on the floor, red wings splayed and arms limp in unconsciousness. Ugly, glowing red sigils — the sign of a mishandled summoning — snake up and down their skin like flashing neon. Foggy can’t make out a face, just a head of dark, tousled hair.</p><p>“What the fuck happened here?” he snarls, rounding on the Summoner — billionaire’s son be-damned, this is a colossal screw-up. </p><p>“I’m, I’m sorry,” stammers Danny, “I don’t know what I did wrong, I followed the directions Ward printed me for today’s Summoning exactly—”</p><p>Foggy holds out a hand, and Danny meekly surrenders a stapled sheaf of papers.</p><p>A quick flip through the pages reveals that they’re very clear instructions all right — on exactly how to horrifically fuck up a summoning. Another attempt to sabotage Danny, then. Foggy is going to strangle Ward Meachum with his bare hands and no force on earth will stop him.</p><p>But first, he’s got to take care of this demon.</p><p>After shoving the papers back at Danny and barking an order at him not to lose them, Foggy crouches at the edge of the circle. He can’t break the ring of heavy chalk inside the sigils the way he normally would to reverse a summoning. That would risk tearing this poor demon in two. Instead, Foggy reaches out, over the lines, and places a hand atop the demon’s head. Their hair is soft, but sprinkled with ash from being dragged so roughly into the earthly plane.</p><p>“Hey, can you hear me?” Foggy asks.</p><p>There’s a soft groan, and the demon stirs. A clawed hand closes around Foggy’s arm. Thankfully, Foggy’s still got a rudimentary grasp of Infernal, and manages to spit out a quick reassurance in the language that keeps the disoriented demon from snapping his wrist.</p><p>“Muh,” grumbles the demon, and finally lifts their head — to reveal a characteristic pair of full-black eyes, though surrounded with a unique spattering of what appear to be acid scars.</p><p>“Hey there, buddy. I know it hurts, but can you stand for me?”</p><p>No verbal response, just a groan. But it’s followed by a nod. Foggy lets out a sigh of relief. Slowly, the demon levers onto their hands and knees, then to their feet. Foggy stands too, carefully guiding the demon to step over the summoning circle without smudging it. Then he hauls the demon’s — seriously jacked, what the hell — arm over his shoulders, grabs them around the waist, and starts trudging for the door.</p><p>“Foggy,” Danny says, as they pass him, “I. I really am sorry—”</p><p>Foggy sighs.</p><p>“I know. Just... Not now, ok? Lock down the summoning room, I don’t want anyone messing with the circle while I work. I’ll let you know when it’s safe.”</p><p>Each step has to be agony for the demon, in the state they’re in, but Foggy doesn’t hear a single complaint or grunt of pain as he leads them down the hall back to his office. They just lean on him heavily, head lolling a little until there’s a nose snuffling Foggy’s hair. A half-garbled sentence in Infernal is mumbled into that same hair — one Foggy’s pretty sure translates roughly to ‘I want to devour you’, although he can’t for the life of him remember if this is the version of the phrase that’s flirty or the one that’s threatening.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, ok,” Foggy manages to get out past his huffing and puffing. “I know, I’m delicious.”</p><p>A warm, affirmative hum follows this pronouncement. After a few more minutes, they finally get into Foggy’s office. Thank god for huge fancy law firms with unnecessary furniture. He lays the demon on the couch at the far end of the room, then stretches out his sore back. While doing that, Foggy studies his patient. There are a pair of red horns poking out of the demon’s short, dark hair. Their bare chest is made of sharp planes and burning with red sigils, and their tight black pants leave nothing to the imagination. Their feet are bare. </p><p>The demon, who seems more awake but who continues to face the ceiling instead of looking over at Foggy, asks what’s going to happen next. Foggy struggles through a rough offer of help in Infernal, then gives it up as a bad job.</p><p>“I’m going to complete the ritual; that should pull you fully into this realm and heal your summoning burns. It’s been a while since I had to do this, but I actually had Summoner training,” he explains to the demon as he digs through his shelves for the necessary items. “And no offense to Danny but I would trust me way more than him to fix this for you. Just gotta... Ah, there it is.”</p><p>Behind the last of his law books, Foggy finally finds his emergency kit. It’s got human medical stuff like bandages and sutures and burn cream, but it also has what he needs to mend this broken summoning: a large ink bottle full of violet infernal ichor, and a soft calligraphy-style brush. He plucks them from the kit, and makes his way back over to the demon.</p><p>“I’ve been told this could be a little cold, but it shouldn’t hurt — so if it starts to, let me know.”</p><p>The demon hums in agreement. So, Foggy opens up the ichor and dips the calligraphy brush inside. Then, carefully, he grasps the fingers of the demon’s left hand, lifts it. They take a shaky inhale. Foggy swallows. The air feels charged, heavy. After a few seconds, Foggy shakes himself and begins to paint over the sigils flashing on the back of the demon’s hand. Follows them up their arm, dipping into the ichor bottle as needed. Under his touch, the demon shivers.</p><p>“Ok there?” Foggy asks.</p><p>The demon clears their throat, nods.</p><p>“Yes. It doesn’t hurt.”</p><p>When speaking English, their voice is low and a little rough.</p><p>“That’s good.” Foggy continues painting the sigils. “I’m, uh, Foggy Nelson. You’re in the law offices of Landman and Zack, in Manhattan. In case you were wondering.”</p><p>“I’m Matt,” replies the demon.</p><p>It’s not a very demonic name, but then ‘Foggy’ isn’t exactly a name you’d expect a lawyer to have, so Foggy has no room to talk, he supposes. This introduction is followed by a very formally-worded statement of rank and type. Handily, such a classification comes with gender signifiers in Infernal. So, Matt’s a he. Good to know. He also turns out to be a mid-rank hybrid-sin demon. Lust and wrath — which given both his body and the scars on it isn’t hard to believe. </p><p><em>Ah</em>, Foggy thinks wryly, as he begins tracing the sigils across Matt’s gorgeous pecs. <em>A Catholic</em>.</p><p>Not all sin demons are religious, obviously, but the majority are at least culturally Christian. And given the guy looks like the church’s sexiest nightmares of the Devil, well... It’s hard not to assume.</p><p>“You and I are gonna have to get, uh, pretty intimately acquainted here, Matt,” Foggy tells him, “so, sorry about that in advance.”</p><p>That said, he braces his free hand under Matt’s neck to get a better angle on the sigils swirling across the demon’s shoulder. Matt gasps, sharply— but before Foggy can ask if he’s alright, a thin little noise of pleasure escapes the demon’s lips. They both freeze.</p><p>“Uh. I’m.”</p><p>When Foggy tries to pull away, Matt’s right hand claps his palm back to hot, demonic skin.</p><p>“Please.” Matt swallows, and his throat bobs. “Go, um. Go ahead. Whatever you need to do to fix this.”</p><p>Right. Fix this. Right; this is— Matt might be toughing it out, but he was dragged into this plane of existence through the supernatural equivalent of broken glass, and he has to be in a lot of pain. Foggy needs to focus on that, not anything else.</p><p>He pushes through the process as efficiently as he can, blowing on the ichor to dry it before coaxing Matt onto his side to get his right arm, then onto his chest to trace over the sigils searing down Matt’s spine between his bat-like wings. All the while, Foggy’s throat remains dry. A guy can only ignore how someone responds to his touch so much — and Matt is absolutely melting into it. Breathy exhales, pushing up into Foggy’s steadying left hand, tension dropping out of his body little by little until he looks as loose and languid as a big cat. Lucky for Foggy’s blood pressure, the summoning burns are only on Matt’s upper body and looped around his ankles like shackles, so the shirtless demon does not have to become a naked demon at any point.</p><p>When the final sigil is painted and Foggy says the activation phrase, there’s a burst of heat — the successful completion of the summoning. It burns away the dried ichor, leaving Matt’s skin smooth again except for his scars.</p><p>“And, uh, there we are,” Foggy says lamely.</p><p>“There we are,” repeats Matt.</p><p>He’s still lying on this front, and has shifted to fold his arms beneath his head, arching his back a little — <em>damn that’s an impressive ass</em>, Foggy thinks, <em>what the fuck</em>. He catches the edge of a dangerously handsome smile.</p><p>Shit.</p><p>Lust demon.</p><p><em>Ok, Foggy</em>, he tells himself. <em>You fixed the summoning, now you’ve just gotta send him back to the Infernal plane. Just... break the summoning circle like you did for all the others. Easy peasy</em>.</p><p>“It was nice meeting you, Matt, but I’m sure you want to get home. I’ll go get Danny and let him know we can break the circle now.”</p><p>“What I want,” Matt says, “is compensation for this clear negligence on the part of your firm to screen its Summoner candidates.”</p><p>Foggy winces. The guy isn’t... Wrong, exactly, but the thought of him potentially pursuing damages had slipped from Foggy’s mind in light of the need to fix the summoning. On the one hand, this might force the partners to both finally get rid of Ward and to properly train Danny. On the other hand, the partners suck ass and are also the kind of guys who would’ve preferred Foggy resolve the situation by splicing Matt between dimensions over saving him to allow this sort of opportunity for litigation.</p><p>Foggy sighs. Well, nothing for it now.</p><p>“Yeah, that’s fair. I have a friend in the Infernal division, I can take you to her to start that process.”</p>
<hr/><p>When Foggy shuffles into her office like a wet cat with Matt’s hand curled around his arm — he’d just grabbed it and hadn’t let go, and Foggy had been too anxious to ask about it — Marci’s lips turn up in an evil and delighted grin.</p><p>“Foggy <em>Bear</em>,” she purrs. “What have you brought me today?”</p><p>“Foggy Bear?” asks Matt.</p><p>Foggy groans.</p><p>“Don’t,” he orders. “Just ignore her. Marci, Danny bungled a summoning with some very deliberate help from Ward. Long story short, this is Matt and he’d like to file charges.”</p><p>Marci is not impressed. In fact, she’s giving Foggy the ‘fuck you for making this my problem’ look that tells him they probably won’t be hooking up for the next couple of months. But she’s secretly a good egg, so she does eventually cave.</p><p>“Rank and classification?” she asks Matt, irritated.</p><p>He recites it for her, hand tightening around Foggy’s arm. Marci starts typing it and then pauses, halfway. Squints at her computer screen. Squints up at Matt.</p><p>“Wait. I know you.”</p><p>That’s news to Foggy. He glances over at Matt too — and finds the demon looking decidedly shifty.</p><p>“I don’t think we’ve met.”</p><p>“No,” agrees Marci, “we haven’t. But I do know you. You’re the one Asmodeus’s boys call ‘that daredevil’. Last I heard, you were a quarter of the way into a year-long stint in solitary confinement for killing another demon.”</p><p>Matt’s gone as tense as a coiled spring.</p><p>“He <em>wh</em>— Are you telling me Danny summoned him out of <em>solitary confinement</em>? In <em>Asmodeus’s prison</em>?”</p><p>That genuinely shouldn’t be possible, not even with a summoning circle intentionally targeting Matt instead of the garbled mess Danny had scrawled at Ward’s instruction. Jesus. Foggy may have to rethink his idea of gently suggesting Danny get a new career. Focusing on this is also a great way to avoid thinking about how the demon currently squeezing his arm in a panicked death grip apparently straight up murdered another demon.</p><p>“Rand’s certainly a special little snowflake,” says Marci. “But given the circumstances, Asmodeus should be the one pursuing damages, and your shirtless boy toy here needs to go back to the cell from whence he came.”</p><p>The terror on Matt’s face is heart-wrenching. Suddenly, his reactions to Foggy’s touches make perfect sense. It’s been three months since Matt’s had physical contact with another being, if Marci’s right. For a demon tied to sins as tactile as Wrath and Lust, that has to be an eternity.</p><p>And even though Foggy knows, professionally, that this isn’t his problem or his job, that the best thing to do would be to let the system run its course instead of making an enemy out of a demon prince... Well. As Candy always says, he’s got a heart like a toasted marshmallow.</p><p>“Marce, we can’t send him back there.”</p><p>Marci glares. She makes threatening strangling motions at him with her perfectly manicured hands. But, again, she’s secretly a good egg — so she caves.</p><p>“I’m going to murder you,” is what she says, but Foggy knows that means ‘fine I’ll help’; especially since she starts typing again.</p><p>“Thank you, Marci.”</p><p>“Do not speak to me, Foggy Bear. In fact, don’t even think about me. When you get your sorry ass fired for this, you are going to insist that you acted alone, because I’m not giving up my healthcare benefits for you.”</p><p>“Cross my heart,” Foggy promises.</p><p>The elephant in the room rustles his wings, and Foggy finally glances at Matt for the first time since his stupid and poorly-thought-out declaration. For a demon, Matt really leads with his face. It sends a pang of fondness through Foggy’s heart.</p><p>Ok, maybe he’s doing the right thing after all.</p><p>Matt doesn’t look back at Foggy, but he does bite his lip, before murmuring his thanks in Infernal. Who’d expect a demon to be so shy? Foggy manages to dredge up enough of the language to offer a proper response — structurally similar to a ‘you’re welcome’ but closer to ‘I’m happy to do it’ as directly translated.</p><p>“You said you had Summoner training,” Matt points out finally, after five long seconds of silence stretch between them. “But you aren’t a Summoner.”</p><p>“No. I’m an interplanar lawyer, like Marci here. I’m in the Elemental division, but there’s been almost a dozen accidental demon summonings on my floor this week, so I’m kind of getting a crash course.”</p><p>A snort from across the room cuts in.</p><p>“You’re too sweet and cuddly, you wouldn’t last a day in the real Infernal division,” Marci says, fondly.</p><p>Foggy ignores her. It’d sound condescending coming from anyone else, but Marci is also the person who thought that him demolishing another guy in their freshman debate class at Columbia was so hot she blew him in the back seat of her car. She knows he gets mean and she likes it. A lot.</p><p>Clearing his throat, Foggy shakes those memories from his mind.</p><p>“What do you do, Matt? Or what— did you do? Previously? Before the, uh...”</p><p><em>Wow. Solid performance. Way to put your foot in it, Nelson</em>.</p><p>Matt doesn’t take offense, though. He shrugs, flexes his wings a little.</p><p>“Well, you know. Temptations. Chaos, discord. A little bit of violence.” Tipping his head towards Foggy, Matt raises his thick eyebrows playfully. “<em>Bondage</em>. All that fun stuff.”</p><p>Foggy’s not sure if that’s flirting or not. He wants it to be flirting way more than he really should, considering that this is a demon he met like half an hour ago. He swallows, wets his suddenly dry lips.</p><p>“Guess that means you, uh, see a lot of action.”</p><p>“Well,” Matt replies in a tone that implies a joke, “I wouldn’t say I see much of anything, ever.”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>And then it clicks.</p><p>Blind. Matt’s blind. Suddenly the grabbing Foggy’s arm and the not facing him and the acid burns all make sense. Of course, with the black scleras and all, it would be difficult to notice anything different about a demon’s eyes.</p><p>“Oh, shit— I didn’t realize. Sorry.”</p><p>“No, it’s.” Matt grimaces, bites his lip. “You don’t have to apologize. I didn’t tell you.”</p><p>It seems pretty clear he doesn’t want to talk about it. Which, well... Fair enough.</p><p>“On the risk of moving from one touchy subject to another... Why <em>did</em> you kill that other demon?” Foggy asks.</p><p>The inquiry causes Matt to bite his lip again, harder, and Foggy cringes.</p><p>“It’s...” Matt clears his throat. “It isn’t a nice story.”</p><p>Well, it ended in murder, so Foggy kind of hadn’t expected it to be a nice story. When he points this out, Matt sighs. After rubbing a hand over his mouth for a second, he nods decisively.</p><p>“Temptation is... Well. It’s temptation. It isn’t really meant to be nice. Or good. But it’s not a way to override free will, and we can choose how to use it. We have that discretion. You meet someone who hasn’t quite stepped over the line, only because there hasn’t been an opportunity... And you give them that opportunity. Make yourself that opportunity. And then, well...” A dark smile comes over the demon’s face. “They belong to Asmodeus, and you can pull them to the Infernal realm whenever you please. I like to think most demons operate this way. But the truth is, some don’t. They— they make other people, innocent people, the opportunity. Don’t bring their targets down to Asmodeus right away. They think it’s... Fun, to watch humans hurt each other.”</p><p>Foggy swallows.</p><p>“So the demon you killed...” he begins, and can’t finish the question.</p><p>“There was a little girl.”</p><p>Matt doesn’t elaborate on what happened to her. Foggy’s not sure he really wants to know. The implication is clear enough — something this demon was doing hurt her. And Matt killed them to make it stop. Foggy closes his right hand over Matt’s, which is still curled around his left arm just above the elbow.</p><p>“Matt—”</p><p>He’s interrupted by a loud sigh.</p><p>“There’s only one way,” Marci says, rolling her chair back from her desk. “Just one human institution that’ll grant your daredevil enough diplomatic immunity to stop Asmodeus from dragging him back to the Infernal Realm. So. Congrats on your impending nuptials, gentlemen.”</p><p>Nuptials. As in... Marriage. They have to get married.</p><p>They have to get <em>married</em>?</p><p>“You’re joking.”</p><p>“Is this a joking face, Foggy Bear?” Marci asks, her voice syrupy-sweet and deadly.</p><p>It’s not.</p><p>But. Married? Really?</p><p>“Why, though?” he asks. “What about marriage would stop a guy like Asmodeus?”</p><p>Marci waves her hand dismissively.</p><p>“It’s something about Love as a virtue trumping Lust as a vice. Ancient rock-paper-scissors stuff. The reasons are flimsy, but the precedent is clear: the Love claim of a spouse supersedes any claim Asmodeus has on one of his underlings.”</p><p>She’s right that the logic sounds pretty ridiculous, but Foggy trusts Marci. If she says there’s case law to support this as a method, he trusts her. It’s probably their best, maybe their only, bet to keep Matt out of Asmodeus’s clutches.</p><p>“That’s, uh.” Foggy rubs a hand over his mouth, thinks about Matt and about Love and about trying to combine the two — a demon husband, til death do they part. “That’s quite the solution.”</p><p>Silence reigns through Marci’s office. Eventually, as usual, she’s the one brave enough to break it.</p><p>“Look, are we moving forward with this farce, or not?” she demands. “Because if I’m going to take a long lunch to witness for you, Foggy Bear, I need to know now.”</p><p>It’s a valid question. Is he really going to do this? Spend his lunch break thumbing his nose at a demon prince and his own bosses by marrying a demon he just met?</p><p>“You don’t have to do this for me,” Matt says quietly. “It’s only nine more months. I’ll be fine.”</p><p>It’s probably true, for a given definition of ‘fine’. Another nine months in solitary won’t kill Matt — demons are notoriously hard to kill, actually — but given Matt’s state after three months, nine more doesn’t feel like an acceptable cost.</p><p>“Yeah, I know.” Foggy reaches out to cup Matt’s cheek, and as the demon leans into the touch with a nearly-inaudible hum, he finds the answer to his own questions waiting on his tongue. “But I’m gonna anyway.”</p><p>The smile that declaration puts on Matt’s face is beautiful enough to lay any lingering doubts to rest.</p>
<hr/><p>The truth is, getting married is easier said than done; it’s going to take a bit of work. None of the three of them know how long it’ll take Asmodeus to notice his prisoner is missing, or how long it’ll take him to track Matt down after that. But step one in slowing him down is removing any tie Matt has to the summoning circle.</p><p>For that, they need Danny.</p><p>Foggy heads back to the Elemental floor, and calls Danny in to the office so he can give him his orders.</p><p>“But I thought we were going to break the circle and send him back?” Danny asks.</p><p>“That was the plan,” agrees Foggy as he bundles up his things. “But Matt’s going to stay. So I need you to clean off the sigils instead.”</p><p>Cleaning the circle without breaking it isn’t something they usually do, but it’s not unheard of. Every so often a particularly powerful elemental needs to stick around for a few days to hammer out the contract. So Danny knows what to do, even if he looks completely baffled about why he’s being asked to do it.</p><p>“I... If you’re sure.”</p><p>“I’m very sure,” Foggy tells him. “But Danny... What I’m doing here, the partners aren’t going to like it. And neither is Asmodeus. You pulled Matt right out of prison, and I’m going to, uh.” It felt stupid to say it aloud, but Foggy cleared his throat and pushed through anyway. “I’m going to marry him to keep him out of that cell. The less you’re involved, the safer you’ll be.”</p><p>It’s intended as a practical truth. But then, Foggy’s forgotten who he’s dealing with. Danny’s headstrong at the best of times, and a downright busybody at the worst. He tightens his jaw and insists on helping, and Foggy can’t talk him down before Marci brings Matt up to the office.</p><p>“Got everything you need, Foggy Bear?” asks Marci.</p><p>“And something I don’t,” Foggy says as he grabs the last of the files, because it’s been a long week and he’s not above being a dick. “But yeah — copy of my driver’s license, birth certificate, social security card. We can’t get any of that for Matt, but—”</p><p>“But the records I pulled from our archive will be all the ID a demon needs,” finishes Marci.</p><p>Beside her, Matt shakes his head.</p><p>“You— you just had all that ready in your office?”</p><p>“You may not know this about me, but I also happened to be a Boy Scout,” jokes Foggy, and it startles a brilliant laugh from the lips of his— well, fiancé.</p><p>Matt shivers when Foggy takes his hand — but he leans in close, too, as if he can’t get enough contact.</p>
<hr/><p>The fact that it all comes together is truly a testament to Marci’s ruthless efficiency, Danny’s guileless generosity, and the rapport Foggy’s built with Judge Maitland. They part ways at noon and are back together at the courthouse lobby half an hour later. Foggy with the necessary waiver signed by Judge Maitland, Marci with a clerk and the rest of the needed paperwork already mostly filled out, and Danny with two shining black wedding rings.</p><p>The wedding itself is perfunctory and to the point. Foggy thinks to himself that if his Ma doesn’t kill him for having married a demon or for having married a demon on the same day he met him, she’s going to demand some kind of ceremony or celebration as recompense for this. Which is fine, it’s fine, he’ll ease Matt into the idea.</p><p>Their vows are the standard ones, although Matt tacks on a flowery promise to protect Foggy’s ‘generous and admirable’ heart. And then they’re done, and the clerk tells them they can kiss.</p><p>Matt wastes no time — he surges into the kiss like a man starving, one clawed hand curled possessively against the side of Foggy’s throat. The other kneads at Foggy’s hip, oh-so-gently, a comfort-seeking tic. Above them, leathery red wings stretch wide. As he lets himself fall into the kiss, Foggy’s eyes slide closed; and then he can feel it, he thinks. The way this touch, the kiss, is making Matt stronger. The minuscule shifts in his grip, a spike in the low hum of demonic energy coming off him. When they finally break apart, Foggy’s knees feel like they’re made of jello.</p><p>Everything else he does on autopilot — signing the license, handing it over. He must look like a completely lovestruck dope, based on the look the clerk throws him before leaving. But Foggy doesn’t care. This feels right.</p><p>Matt lifts Foggy’s left hand and drops a kiss against the burnished black wedding band currently binding them in legal and unholy matrimony.</p><p>“Thank you, Foggy. I’ll never be able to repay you for what you’ve done for me today.”</p><p>“It’s, I, uh. You’re welcome,” Foggy tells him, heat creeping up his face and into his ears.</p><p>“I’m gonna puke,” says Marci, very supportively. “Don’t forget to fuck, consummation is a big sticking point for Asmodeus.”</p><p>Foggy isn’t going to have to worry about Asmodeus, he’s just gonna combust right here between the worst best friend in history and his super jacked demon husband.</p><p>“Marce, Jesus!”</p><p>It’s bad enough that she said it, but Danny is standing literally right there, looking like a kid who just saw something shocking. This really isn’t how Foggy wants his young coworker to think of him. He points at Danny.</p><p>“You didn’t hear any of that.”</p><p>Danny cringes.</p><p>“But... I did.”</p><p>Ughhh. Fine. Fine. There’s nothing to be done about it now. And as embarrassing as it is, Marci’s probably right about consummation. They need to get that last piece of the puzzle locked in fast, before Asmodeus shows his face.</p><p>“I’m taking the rest of the day as PTO,” Foggy announces. “I’ll log it in once Matt and I are back at the apartment. Danny, if you can get Colleen to help you with today’s actual summoning, you should be good. The paperwork for the zephyr is sitting on my desk, in the blue file, she just needs to sign it. If anyone asks about Matt’s summoning, tell them I did it, ok?”</p><p>Though he looks troubled at the order, Danny agrees. He and Marci head back to work, while Foggy and Matt begin the journey to Foggy’s apartment.</p><p>“Can’t wait to have me all to yourself, husband?” teases Matt, who seems to be in much higher spirits.</p><p>He’s practically buoyant, interlacing their fingers and curling a wing around Foggy’s shoulders to keep them close. The behavior is both endearing and flattering. Combined with the use of ‘husband’, well — Foggy’s gooey toasted-marshmallow heart melts into a puddle of sugar water.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, you’re very handsome, good job. Watch your step, there’s a curb here.”</p><p>The further they walk, and the more gentle corrections from Matt that Foggy gets, the better he’s able to narrate what Matt wants and needs to know. By the time they reach Foggy’s apartment building, he’s feeling decently confident about it. Still, the guy’s not in the Infernal Realm’s prison anymore, and Foggy knows there’s plenty of human-made assistive technology that’ll make Matt’s life easier. They’ll just have to do a little research and spend some of Foggy’s ridiculous paycheck.</p><p>“It smells like you,” is the first thing Matt says when they step into Foggy’s apartment.</p><p>“Well, I do live here.”</p><p>“I like it,” Matt decides.</p><p>“If you think you like it now,” says Foggy, “wait until I’ve shown you the water pressure in the shower.”</p><p>Once he’s given Matt a tour of the place and written himself a note to figure out how they can at least get him a white cane, Foggy pulls out his phone to log a half day of PTO time. Typically he’s supposed to have it entered two weeks ahead of time, but there’s not much they can do to him if he doesn’t. He’s already stuck dealing with Ward Meachum two days out of five, it can’t get worse.</p><p>“Ok, that’s done.” Foggy clears his throat. “So about, uh, consummation, how did you want to—”</p><p>His voice cuts out with a squeak when he finally looks up from his phone screen.</p><p>“I was thinking maybe we could do it my way,” suggests Matt.</p><p>No one with horns and bat wings should look that guileless ever, but especially not while holding a length of shibari rope.</p><p>“No,” Foggy tells him on principle.</p><p>Bondage on your wedding day sets a terrible precedent. Foggy’s never been married before, let alone to a demon, but he’s pretty sure that’s true.</p><p>“It’ll be good,” promises Matt earnestly. “So good. I have a lot of practice.”</p><p>Twenty minutes later, Foggy is trussed up like a present while his demon husband checks the ropes over one last time. So sue him — the guy’s extremely charismatic. Not to mention the bondage is a good excuse for Matt to touch as much as he wants, at his own pace; to be in control of physical contact after three months of it being out of his hands entirely. Foggy’s libido and his marshmallow heart have won out once again.</p><p>“I think,” Matt says, trailing a clawed finger oh-so-gently up and down Foggy’s spine, “this is the beginning of a beautiful marriage.”</p>
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